A Repeated Tragedy
by coveryoureyes
Summary: When Buffy's split second decision causes her horrible feelings of doubt, guilt, and depression the only person she can turn to is Spike. The situation becomes even more complicated with a spell gone wrong. Eventual smut, though this story focuses more on plot than fluff.
1. Chapter 1: Bury You

The first thing I notice when I walk through the front door are the flowers sitting just inside. I can't help but peek at the note – I mean come on, you can't kill a girl for wanting to check out her mom's date.

"Joyce. See you after dark." Okay. A little weird but whatever, it's still cute he sent her flowers. I need to hear the details, I'm happy seeing my mom so flustered -although I can't picture her at a romantic dinner – ew.

None of the lights are on in the front hallway, and when I reach for the light switch I feel it.

There is a vampire in my house.

_Oh God, Mom! _I rush up the stairs, praying that whatever vamp she's invited in hasn't hurt her. Bursting into her room, I nearly fall over her prone form, face down on the floor. Turning her over, I see her eyes start to flutter open, and try to focus my Slayer senses on finding the demon in my house.

Crouching protectively over my mother, I try to keep still.

"Mom, it's close. Get behind me, I swear we'll be fine."

I nearly miss it when she lunges for my throat.

* * *

I spin instantly and push her across the room, and I'm in shock as I see my mother's eyes flash yellow.

"What's the matter sweetie? Hoping you wouldn't have to take your work home with you?" Her mocking laughter is so out of place that I barely realize I should sidestep that kick she's aiming for my stomach. At this point it is a fight, and I lose myself in the rhythm of kicks and punches, tumbling and dodging.

It's over quickly, and I find myself sitting on her chest, knees pinning her arms to her sides as she tries to buck me off.

"Mommy, please listen, calm down we'll be okay, it'll be okay." I don't know if I am reassuring her or myself, but I slowly loosen my hold on her and stand up, allowing her space to climb to her feet as well. Her features have been taken over by the demon, and I see her cartilage and bone tremble as she shakes out of game face.

"Oh honey, what's happening? I feel so out of sorts." She pitches forward and in that moment all I see is my mom falling to the ground, so I lunge to catch her.

I barely register what's happened when she grips my wrist and rips into my skin with her fully extended fangs.

Blinding pain shoots through my entire left arm, and instinctive tears cloud my vision. My mind goes blank, and years of ingrained habit take over when I wrench my stake from my back pocket, and plunge it into my mother's chest.

* * *

I only see flashes from the corner where I am curled into myself. In front of me is my mother. No, what's left of her. Of her demon. Of a vampire that tried to kill me.

_Oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod. _I can faintly hear a scream - a gargled, ripping noise that gets louder and louder until it throbs behind my eyes.

I take a shuddering breath and the screech ends, my screech I guess.

I don't register my movements, all I know is one moment I am curled into a ball and the next I am walking down the stairs. Into the kitchen. I grip the phone and begin to dial before realizing I can't place a call to 911 for the pile of ash on the carpet.

_I should call someone. Aren't I supposed to call someone? Willow might be busy, she and Tara are probably together. I wouldn't want to interrupt them. Xander is probably at work. Giles? He'll know what to do about – _my mommy.

I murdered my mom. I killed her. No more hot cocoa or lectures or laughing or nail polish or shopping or Christmas dinners.

_No no no no no no no NOOOOOOOOO._

I drop to the tile floor and press myself onto the cool floor.

* * *

The phone rings in the distance, and at some point the sun rises. Birds sing, children laugh, and the world keeps turning. Maybe if I stay still on the ground long enough it will swallow me up.

They arrive later. Maybe hours, days. They sound muffled and I can't focus on any of their concerned faces. Giles, Willow, and Xander float in and out of my vision, and when I feel myself being lifted, I let the reality of what I've done hit me, and it is a sweet relief to fall unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2: Missing in Action

This story takes place in Season five, but the Glory storyline does not take place, and therefore Dawn does not exist.

Earlier that day …

Willow entered the Magic Box and was disappointed to find that Buffy was not there. She'd been trying to reach her best friend all day and hadn't gotten any sort of response. Could Buffy be upset with her? She'd been spending a lot of time with Tara in the last few days, but she hadn't meant to ignore her friend.

"Hey guys, was Buffy in here at all today? I've been trying to track her down to talk but she hasn't answered any of my calls. Could she be mad at me? Did she say anything? Maybe she thinks I've been ignoring her or my latest dorky moment made her realize I'm not cool enough to be her friend or-"

"Wills, calm down. She's been giving us all the cold shoulder. I just wish I knew why she suddenly went underground," Xander replied, calming the red headed witch down. Xander, Anya, Tara, and Giles were all sitting around the main table, each now glancing at one another.

"To be perfectly honest I thought she may be a bit brassed off towards me because I spoke rather sternly to her yesterday about her focus and, erm… late night partying at the Bronze lately." Giles looked quite embarrassed, but then sat up taller, straightening his glasses, "so has anyone seen or spoken to Buffy today?"

A chorus of denials left everyone in the shop feeling even more concerned for their danger-seeking friend. Almost at once the five of them stood and strode to the phone on the counter. Giles dialed, and they all crowded anxiously around the handheld before hearing the answering machine message.

"We need to head over to her house. She could be in trouble. Someone should check the graveyards as well. We need to find her as soon as possible." Tara reached for her coat as she said this. She and Buffy had an understanding when it came to suffering, as neither of them had lived easy childhoods. She was scared Buffy may have spiraled due to the stress of her mother's recovery in addition to the already stressful life of the Slayer she lived.

"Xander and I could sweep the graveyards. Giles, you should watch the shop in case Buffy shows up here. Or customers come to give us money. Tara and Willow could head to her house," Anya instructed. Grabbing Xander by the hand she led them to the car, and sped off to the cemetery nearest Buffy's place. Giles sighed and sat back down, organizing the list of texts he was having shipped in. Willow and Tara blew out of the shop, and the group all tried to ignore the thought that Buffy may be in danger, or worse.


	3. Chapter 3: A Demon's Bad Side

This story takes place in Season five, but the Glory storyline does not take place, and therefore Dawn does not exist.

* * *

Spike was having a great night. He had shown his demon face and done a bit of growling at some poor bloke leaving the liquor store, and now had himself a nice bottle of whiskey, courtesy of a scared citizen.

Terrifying the humans of Sunnydale was a favorite hobby of his, and always left his ego extra large. Jack Daniels in one hand, a stake in the other, he cruised through the cemetery around his crypt, staking a few fledges on his way home. Taking down the big demon with antlers was especially enjoyable, it reminded him of the slimy fellow that Dru had left him for in South America.

"And. Take. That. Antlered. Freak." The last punch broke his neck, and Spike stood up from his position of sitting on the demon's chest. Another swig of the fiery amber liquid went down, and Spike shook the dirt off his duster, turning to head back to his home, and more importantly, the telly. Scenting something familiar, he sniffed the air.

_Fuckin' Harris. And the ex-demon bint. Perfect. Just what I need, a good one sided beating before headed off to bed. God, as soon as this fucking chip goes haywire…_

"Oh, if it isn't my favorite bleached-out, leashed vamp," Xander called from across the plot. Sighing, Spike turned to face the Slayer's friends, hoping they would scamper off soon. He wanted to watch his soaps, and this human really pissed him the hell off.

"Oh, and if it isn't my least favorite blood sack, with his delicious mate in tow," Spike leered at Anya, knowing that it intimidated Xander that Spike was stronger and better looking than him. Anya smiled politely, and nodded in thanks, while Xander looked as though steam would leak from his ears any second.

"Watch it, tall, pale, and dead, one of us has a chip in their head, and it isn't me. Besides, Ahn and I aren't here for a social visit. Have you seen Buffy?"

At hearing the Slayer's name, Spike suddenly became interested in what Harris had to say. Even if he loved the girl, he knew she could be a blithering idiot, and if her friends were worried, it meant she might have gotten herself into trouble.

"Why are you lookin for Buffy? Did Goldilocks realize she was hanging around with a bunch of prats and move on?" Pushing Xander's buttons was another pastime Spike enjoyed immensely.

"She's gone MIA. We haven't been able to reach her all day, and nobody has seen her since yesterday." Xander grabbed Spike by the lapels of his leather coat and pressed him against the stone of his crypt. "Therefore, Billy Idol, we need you to help us find her."

Spike disentangled himself from Xander's hold, and tried to look haughty and offended. "What makes you think I would want to help you save the Slayer of my kind, the bane of my existence, and a royal pain in my ass?"

Anya finally spoke, seeing the men weren't going to get anywhere. "Spike will help us because he is infatuated with Buffy, and honey, you'll shut up because we are wasting time while Buffy may be in trouble."

The men appraised each other before shrugging and deciding to cooperate.

"Has anyone checked her house?" Spike asked.

"Willow and Tara are headed over but they have to run, so they'll be over there in a few minutes probably" Xander explained.

"Alright. I'll head over there. I've been through all the graveyards tonight, she hasn't been in any of them." Barely finishing his sentence, Spike sprinted towards the Slayer's house.

_Goddamn stupid humans, just because I don't drain them dry doesn't mean I'm suddenly not a vamp. Showin' off a bit of my speed will sufficiently freak that big buffoon. Besides, it's not like I haven't noticed how turned on Anyanka gets when she sees the power of a REAL man._

* * *

Slowing down to a nearly mortal pace on the sidewalk leading to Buffy's house, Spike stopped dead. The bones in his face shifted instantaneously to his demon face. He smelled blood. LOTS of blood. His Slayer's blood.

_Oh god. Fuck fuck fuck she can't be hurt. _But his senses didn't lie. The Slayer was bleeding, and by the smell of it, she had been bleeding for a while.

_At least a couple of pints. She's so little already, she can't handle that much…_

Spike sprinted to her front door and burst through, immediately seeing the source of the blood. He froze, keeping himself from pouncing on her.

_Smells so fucking good god fuck oh my god this isn't just a Slayer this is Buffy this is Buffy this is _

"BUFFY!" Spike roared, and looked for the demon that had dared to touch his Slayer. If it was loose in the house, he had to kill it before it did any more damage. He soon located the pile of ash in a bedroom, with the trail of blood leading back downstairs. He fell to his knees in front of his poor, broken girl, and traced his fingers down her cheek.

"Hold on, love. Your friends are nearly here. Just hold on Buffy."


	4. Chapter 4: Saving Her

This story takes place in the fifth season, but the Glory storyline does not occur, therefore Dawn does not exist.

* * *

Willow and Tara had been jogging to Buffy's house when they heard a scream of rage from what sounded like Spike. Instantly, they began to sprint up the steps and through the already opened front door. Before their terrified eyes was an injured Buffy, and a vampire who looked as though he could snap at any moment.

"Spike, what the hell happened?" Willow asked, her rage barely concealed. Tara knelt on the floor next to Spike and slowly reached for his hand. Spike turned to her and snapped his fully extended gangs together. Slightly muffled by his fangs, Spike looked up at Willow and said, "She's hurt. Killed whatever it was upstairs I think before she came down and passed out. She needs help now." Finishing his sentence, Spike gently put his arms under Buffy and lifted her, cradling her to his chest.

Tara stood and grabbed the keys from Joyce's car off the counter. "We're lucky she didn't t-t-try to drive. We may have come across s-s-something worse."

Willow called the Magic Box and let Giles know they had found Buffy, but she needed medical help right away. Spike carried Buffy to the back seat of the car, where her unconscious form was laid across his lap. Tara started the engine and sped towards the hospital.

Willow turned from her position in the front seat and gingerly moved Buffy's wrist closer so she could examine the wound. Tears streamed down her face as she saw clearly for the first time her best friend's ravaged wrist.

"It looks like a vamp bite. Goddess, how could she have invited one in? And how could a vamp come this close to killing her without being as powerful as the master, or maybe even worse? We need to apply pressure to this now. There's no telling how much blood she's lost."

Spike instantly tore a strip from his black tee shirt off, and began to press on the bite, and an expression of near astonishment crossed his now-human visage.

"Wasn't a bloody master. Couldn't have even been as old as me. It missed any main arteries. Any vamp older than five can target every major artery in the body. This wanker had to be a fuckin' fledge."

Everyone in the car remained silent for the next few minutes as each tried to wrestle with the concept that a newly risen vampire could have inflicted this much damage on Buffy. Pulling into the emergency lane of the hospital, Willow raced to the front desk while Spike carried Buffy close behind, and Tara parked the car as quickly as she could.

"We need help now, please my friend was bitten by uhmm, a dog, and she's unconscious and hasn't woken up and she's been bleeding…" Willow broke off with a sob as a team of doctors wheeled a bed into the waiting room.

_Slayer, you're stronger than some sodding fledgling. The doctors have you now, so please just wake the fuck up. You'll be okay. You'll be okay…_

Spike laid her down on the gurney, and at that moment, with her hair billowing around her misleadingly peaceful face, he knew he was a goner.

_I love her._

_Bugger me._

* * *

Xander and Anya arrived home to find a message on the answering machine. Leisurely they approached the machine, but as soon as they heard Giles's panicked tone of voice they immediately listened in.

"Buffy's been injured badly, Willow called to say she's bringing her to Sunnydale General, meet us there when you receive this."

In record time Anya and Xander reached the hospital, leaving the car illegally parked, without either of them giving a damn. Racing to the front desk, Xander tried to slow his breathing when he questioned the attendant.

"Hi, we're relatives of Buffy Summers, can you please tell us which room she's in, we really need to see her."

After receiving the number, Anya and Xander did not waste a moment trying to find room 118, where their hurt friend was resting. An initial sigh of relief at seeing the Buffster alive turned into a snarl of anger when he saw a peroxided head of hair sniffing the bandages wrapping Buffy's wrist.

Xander wrenched Spike from the chair he had been sitting in and shouted only inches from the vampires now angered face.

"So it's not enough one of your fanged friends took a bite out of Buffy, now you're trying to sample the menu? Get the hell out, Spike, nobody needs you here!"

"Oi, I'm doin' Red a favor you Neanderthal, sod off!"

Willow grabbed Xander's bicep and tried to quietly soothe him, "Xan-Man, it's alright, I asked him to try to sense if Buffy's wound has begun to heal. What we need now is for you to cool it, the doctors said Buff could wake up any moment. Do you really want her to awake to a room of brawling idiots?"

No sooner had Willow mentioned Buffy coming to than the group turned torward Buffy's limp form, which had suddenly begun to shift. With a sigh and flutter of lashes, Buffy opened her eyes.

* * *

Looking up at two concerned witches, a relieved Watcher, a seemingly bored ex-demon, and two embarrassed men brushing themselves off, Buffy had no idea where the hell she was. Doped on pain meds, Buffy smiled dreamily at the random crowd surrounding her.

"So this is a dream. Good. The flowers should have tipped me off, only in Buffyland would guys be that polite…" Buffy trailed off when she caught sight of Willow's expression of pity.

"Buff, you're not dreaming. You're in the hospital. Something attacked you, but you'll be okay in no time." Willow plastered on a brave smile, one she hoped was reassuring.

_What could have attacked me and put me in a hospital? Ugh, I hate hospitals. I should call Mom, she'll be worried…_

A look of horror passed Buffy's face, and her friends all reached towards her, but she jerked away from their touch.

"She's dead. I made her dead. Oh God." Buffy ran her hands through her hair and gripped her scalp, whimpering to herself.

Giles, misunderstanding Buffy's concern, gently took her uninjured hand and tried to soothe her. "Buffy, you're okay, the vampire you killed is truly dead. Has anyone reached your mother yet? I'm sure you'd like to talk to her."

Drawing her knees to her chin and wrapping her arms around herself, Buffy could not meet the eyes of anyone in the room. Barely whispering, Buffy spoke in an anguished tone, "Giles, nobody can reach her anymore."

While the Scoobies looked on confused, Spike was the first to understand what Buffy was telling them. The guests in the room looks quizzically at Spike when he choked on his breath then said in a prayer like plea, "Not again. Oh please, can't have happened again."


	5. Chapter 5: Mistake of a Curse

This story takes place in Season Five, however the Glory storyline does not occur and therefore Dawn does not exist.

* * *

As Spike sank to the floor in horror after realizing the enormity of the situation, comprehension began to dawn on each of the Scoobies faces.

Speaking quietly, wishing he was wrong, Giles asked Buffy, "Buffy, did… what I mean is was… was your mother turned?"

Buffy gave the smallest of nods, and at that moment, everyone in the room fell silent.

Immediately after everyone fell silent, trying to grasp the horror that Buffy had just endured, a nurse walked into the room, smiling brightly.

With an enormous, out-of-place grin, the young woman looked at Buffy and said, "You're all stitched up honey, if you remember what the dog that attacked you looked like, let us know. We wouldn't want this to happen to another person, would we"

Buffy let out a strangled laugh at the improbability that anyone would ever be in her situation. Her pained gasps of laughter cut off as tears streamed down her face.

"Oh honey, I didn't mean to upset you. You're al patched up, consider yourself discharged, I would head home and take it easy for a few days, taking your prescribed pain medication when your arm hurts. We'll mail you all of the paperwork, now you just focus on feeling better."

Buffy looked up at the faces in the room. Giles, Xander, Anya, Tara, and Willow looked pitying as well as horrified. Spike wore a completely blank expression, and seemed to be remembering events from long ago. Unable to deal with everyone else's pain in addition to her own, Buffy hopped down from the gurney and strode to the door, wiping her tears away from her now-dry eyes.

As she entered the hallway, she did not look back at those in her hospital room when she said, "I have to patrol, then I'll head home. Thanks for getting me here. I'll be fine."

Giles began to protest, but was quieted by the suddenly livid glare he received from Spike.

"Give the girl some sodding room to breathe. The bird doesn't need to comfort you gits right now, let her set her mind to rights before you muck up and send her off the deep end."

Willow began to speak but instead broke down sobbing into Tara's chest. "Not Joyce, oh god why did Joyce have to… it's so awful."

Tara stroked her lover's hair and addressed the entire room. "None of us can know what Buffy is feeling right now. Spike is right. She has to deal with her grief, and we have to help her through this. This has got to be absolutely traumatic."

_More than traumatic. I've lived more than one hundred bloody years and I still remember my mum's eyes when she turned to dust. Buffy wasn't bloody expecting Joyce to be replaced by a demon. Pet has to be even worse than I was, and I thought the entire fucking world should stop turning if my mum wasn't in it._

Slowly, with halting steps, everyone emptied from the room, and returned to their own homes, pleading with whatever God they believed in that Buffy would be handling her loss.

* * *

The cloud of dust seemed to cover the moon's light as Buffy staked her fifth vamp in less than two minutes. She didn't allow herself to think. This was her destiny, her calling. To kill the demons that plagued humans. She was programmed to kill, to murder, to slay. Walking through the ashes just beginning to settle on the ground, Buffy began reciting poetry she had liked in Poetry 101 to keep her mind off of… what had happened.

"…Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt

Till my bad angel fire my good one out"

Continuing on her path to the next graveyard, Buffy didn't notice the man standing in shadow. Spike stared in awe as the Slayer walked away, captivated by this beautiful, broken, Shakespeare-reciting woman. At this moment, he decided that he would do anything he could to help her heal, even if it meant uprooting his own horrible past.

* * *

Everyone tried to give their friend space, but soon they realized she was avoiding them. Willow dropped by Buffy's house after classes every other day, but found herself tongue-tied as she struggled to speak without mentioning past memories having to do with Joyce, slaying, or any time that had been happier than the bleak present. Buffy offered no words to reassure her friend, instead staring into space and saying nothing except an occasional "mhm" or "okay."

"Guys, I really don't know if she'll be okay" Xander said to the Scoobies at the Magic Box nearly two weeks after Buffy's hospitalization.

"Xander, the doctor said she would be fine. With her healing I'm sure she is already at peak health. Besides, whenever I've seen her she isn't crying or wailing or eating large amounts of unhealthy food," Anya volunteered, trying to reassure the gang.

"I'm afraid that is exactly why we fear for her Anya, she is usually expressive to the point of giving me a headache but now when she has all the reason in the world to be devastated she has shown no emotion to her closest friends." Giles polished his glasses and trailed off, concern for the girl he now thought of as a daughter in every word.

Willow began to cry quietly as she looked at those she considered her best friends. "I have never felt so helpless. If I cry in front of her, it makes me selfish, but if I don't cry or act sad what if she thinks I don't care? I want to tell her I love her but I don't want her to think that I think she's weak. Damnit, I don't know how to even ask her how her day has been without reminding her that she has reason to be upset."

An unsettling silence held the gang as they each thought of how they had failed to comfort Buffy, who seemed to want nothing to do with them anymore.

"I just wish she could hear what we're trying to tell her," sighed Xander, with everyone nodding in agreement.

"For now we should continue visiting her, and hope she lets us in eventually," said Giles. The gang looked at each other forlornly and began to gather their things, heading home.

* * *

Stepping out from his hidden spot behind a column, Drekkin, Vengeance Demon of the Ignored, smiled and declared, "Wish granted."


	6. Chapter 6: Peace and Quiet

This story takes place in season five, however the Glory storyline does not take place, and therefor Dawn does not exist.

* * *

Buffy's eyes opened slowly as she braced herself to face another day. Even the idea of pretending to be her old, peppy self exhausted her. It had been two weeks since she staked – no, murdered – her own mother, and the pain had not lessened at all.

_Time to get up Buffy. Eat something, make your bed. _She had been running on autopilot. Old habits that gave her a shaky schedule were the only things keeping her from going insane. Even without any major breakdowns so far, Buffy knew she was losing it.

When Willow, Xander, or anyone else came to visit, she couldn't reach out. Their short conversations were uncomfortable, but Buffy couldn't look any of her friends in the eye. After all, how could she possibly put them in danger by being around them? She was a monster, a killer whose destiny was to slay until she died. If she had looked her mother in the eye as she disappeared from the earth forever, how could she know that someday her best friends wouldn't share the same fate.

Willow's last visit had caused Buffy even more guilt. When the red-headed Wicca thought Buffy wasn't looking, she had wiped away stray tears that had escaped.

_How can I comfort my friends when I'm barely even human anymore? I can't think about what happened to my mom, if I do, it means she's really gone._

The vampires and demons of Sunnydale did not know what hit them when this newly-brutal, ferocious slayer began to hunt at night. Buffy no longer made any sarcastic comments or jokes during her patrols. Instead, she killed as many evil things as she could in the hours when the sun was down.

_Kick to the chest, punch to the face, stake through the heart. This is simple, easy. These aren't people, they are anonymous things that terrorize humans. Evil is evil and I am the slayer. I was wrong before, I am not a good-guy vigilante, I am the law. I am an executioner that the Powers That Be provided so that humans can stand a chance._

Everything looked different when she no longer fought for all that was good. She was just a tool. When she died, it wouldn't make any difference, a new Slayer would be called.

It was in one of these reveries that Buffy heard a knock on the door.

"Buffy, it's Anya, I'm here to drop off food and offer comfort." Buffy sighed and crossed the front hall, pulling the front door open.

**Huh, she looks okay, tired maybe, but it's not obvious she committed matricide. Did she clean the house recently? Looks clean. If her mom turned to dust did she have to vacuum her up? What would she do with a vacuum full of her mother's ashes?**

Buffy completely froze and looked at Anya, who had not been speaking.

"Did you hear that? Have you been yelling something? The words are so loud and run together…" Buffy closed her eyes and pressed her palms over her ears, humming to drone out the shouts echoing in her head.

**Oh my god, I think she has finally gone crazy. **"Buffy, I haven't said anything." **What the hell is going on with her, she looks like she's about to throw up. Is this guilt? Why is she guilty now all of a sudden? Wouldn't she be the most guilty right after staking Joyce? **"You don't look so good…"

_Make the voice stop, oh god please stop I know, I killed her I know. Is this my conscience? Please stop, please stop please stop._

Buffy started talking to herself under her breath, and Anya could make out the words "please" and "stop." Anya reached out and grabbed Buffy's forearm, trying to pry her hands from her ears.

"Buffy come back to me, I think you're sick." **What do I do is she sick is she crazy how do I deal with a sick crazy person?**

"I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, I AM NOT CRAZY!" Buffy screamed, struggling to keep from sobbing as the voice continued speaking loudly in her head. This wasn't like that time in high school when she could read minds, this was not a particular voice. It was a loud, inflectionless stream of words that never ended.

Anya rushed to the phone and called the Magic Box. "Hello, this is Rupert Giles at the Magic Box, the emporium for all of you magical needs-"

"Giles, it's Anya. I think Buffy has gone completely psychotic. I don't know what to do. Do I slap her? I saw that in a movie once…"

"No, Anya, do not slap her. I'll call Willow and Tara and head over, try to reach Xander, I think between the five of us we can bring her back from whatever state she is in."

Anya stepped away from the seemingly deranged slayer and sat down in the kitchen, calling her lover. After hearing his voice mail, she hung up in a huff. How on earth did Giles expect her to restrain a slayer if she tried to hurt herself or anyone else?

Buffy meanwhile was trying to hold on to her sanity as the words continued streaming into mind. In the distance she heard the door opening, and more voices entered the fray. As her friends approached, the voice in her mind erupted into a jumble of barely coherent phrases.

**So lost is she having a panic attack I had one of those once when I thought I failed a test but I mean killing your mom is worse than a B in chem….**

**Aww poor Buffster guess she finally cracked under the pressure, saving the world, preventing apocalypse, killing daily, killing a mom, everyone around her always dies… damn I hope I don't die I'm thinking of buying an engagement ring….**

**Where did I go wrong? An insane slayer could be a potent weapon, mustn't let the demons of Sunnydale know she's incapacitated, might cause an uprising…**

**I remember when my mom died, partying all the time, I did what I could to forget she can't forget it was an accident a sick accident and she had to do it…**

When Buffy had adjusted enough to focus on a few words at a time, she realized that she was hearing her friends' emotions and brain activity. In high school she had heard her people's thoughts for a while but this was so much worse, each wave of emotion from the five people in the room crashed over Buffy in a wave, and she felt as though she was drowning.

Buffy opened her eyes and looked into the faces of the five closest people to her, and struggled to control herself long enough to spit out, "It's you, you're what is inside of my head, have to get away so sorry so so sorry it was all my fault…"

Buffy stood and used every ounce of her Slayer strength to bolt from the house as fast as she could move, pumping her legs and focusing only on her breathing. She didn't know where she was going, but the farther from her house she ran the quieter the words in her head became, until eventually they were gone, replaced instead by her own empty feeling of loss she had tried so hard in the last two weeks to avoid.

When she reached the cemetery, Buffy fell to her knees on the cold, wet grass and cried in regret – deep, ripping sobbing – for the first time since she was forced to stake her own mother.

* * *

Spike heard the crying as soon as he stepped out of his crypt.

_Fella can't ever have a normal night of picking up blood and smokes, can he?_

With a snarl, Spike slipped into demon face and leaped in the direction of the sobs, excited for the opportunity to beat up whatever beasty was disturbing the girl and his night. He was confused when he didn't see any demon attacking the bint crying on the ground, and his confusion gave way to understanding when he recognized the mane of blonde hair covering the girl's face.

_Poor girl is finally lettin' it out. Can't imagine how fucking high maintenance it is to keep up the righteous bullshit around those friends of hers. _

Buffy's slayer senses clued her in immediately to the fact that Spike was quickly approaching. _Damnit, can't I be alone anywhere? Can't handle the noise again…_

Spike became wary as he stood next to the slayer when she dried her eyes and braced herself, as if she was waiting for an attack.

_She's ditzy as hell but has she gone completely daft? I've got an all-fucking-American government chip in my head, I couldn't hurt her if I wanted to. Not that I don't want to… just… not right now is all. I'll still want to hurt her on another day. I'm still the big bad._

"Slayer, why do you look like you're waiting for me to fight you? Any other day I'd take up the offer, but I've got a leash on at the moment, Pet."

Instead of the high and mighty comment he was expecting, Buffy's tense expression gave way to a smile.

"You're quiet. I can't hear you."

"I said, SLAYER WHY DO YOU LOOK-" he was silenced by her hand over his mouth.

"You aren't yelling in my head. Oh, thank god, it's not everyone." Buffy sagged in relief, and it was after she let her guard down that she was overcome with the exhaustion of not sleeping for the last two nights as well as the emotionally draining act of crying for her mom.

_Well, it's not exactly ideal, but I could rest against this headstone. Maybe use my jacket as a pillow. Can't go home._

_This girl is completely mental. What the hell is she doing… is she falling asleep in a fucking graveyard? Jesus, how has this slayer lasted this long! _

"Buffy, if you die I might have to deal with an actually competent slayer, so I suggest you get your naps in elsewhere."

"Can't go home. I'm… fine…. Just… tired." Barely finishing her sentence, Buffy's eyes shut and her breathing deepened.

_Can't let the bird get eaten as some bloody buffet. She deserves to go out in battle. I am going to regret this tomorrow, but only I can finish this Slayer. She's mine._

Hoisting her up into his arms, Spike carried the now snoring girl back to his crypt, where he laid her on his couch and pulled a ratty blanket up to her chin before headed down to his bedroom.

_This girl will be the death of me._


	7. Chapter 7: Bum Deal

This story takes place in season five, however the Glory storyline does not take place and therefore Dawn does not exist.

* * *

A smell that reminded Buffy of old basements and whiskey woke her, and she looked around in a daze, having no idea where she was. After she fully awoke, she looked around in the dim lighting and recognized Spike's crypt.

_At what point did I decide to have a sleepover with Captain Peroxide?_

She kicked the musty plaid blanket off of herself and tried not to dwell on the fact that Spike was the one who must have placed it there. Spike had always confused her – at times he didn't seem like such an awful person, even though he didn't have a soul. And if he wasn't so bad without a soul, Angelus must be… it didn't matter. Angelus was now Angel, and Angel had left her.

Descending to Spike's lower level, she marched up to his bed, intending to question how the hell she wound up on his couch. However, as she was about to let out a stream of demanding questions, she caught sight of the vampire's face.

_He shouldn't slick his hair back, with his curls… wow. When he isn't talking he really is gorgeous. Is he shirtless? I wonder what he feels like…_

_NO! Bad Buffy. He is a vampire. Your enemy. Don't think about his cheekbones or eyes or abs…. damnit, control yourself! It's been too long…_

Lost in her self-admonishment, Buffy jumped in surprise when he spoke without opening his eyes.

"Enjoying the view, love? You know I do prefer to sleep naked…" Spike trailed off suggestively as he opened his eyes and began to peel back his sheets.

Buffy turned away and addressed him in an angry tone of voice, "Spike you are such a pig. I actually came down here to ask you how I ended up in your crypt."

Now clothed, Spike grabbed Buffy's shoulders and spun her around. He was pleased to see she was still blushing. He loved riling her up. She was much easier to deal with once she landed ass-first off of her high horse.

"You fell asleep in the middle of the graveyard after babbling on about how I wasn't yelling at you. You may be dim but I didn't think you deserved to be taken out by whatever amateur demon stumbled across you, Sleeping Beauty. I picked you up and dumped you on my couch. Satisfied?"

"Oh. Well. Thanks," Buffy said, surprised by his explanation. She had expected a sinister ulterior motive. To be honest, she was sort of hoping he had an evil plan, it would be easier to categorize him as an evil thing if he was more, well, _evil._

"So Slayer, are you, or are you not completely off your sodding rocker? Your prattling on had me thinking you'd lost it. Seem fine now. Well, as fine as your ditzy, self centered person is usually."

_Do not hit him, do not hit him… what the hell._

Buffy punched him in the gut, happy for a fleeting moment that she had wiped that smirk off his unfairly-handsome face.

"I'm having a bit of an emotion-absorbing, brain reading problem with my friends right now, so I had to get as far away from them as I could. Tuned out their brain-waves or whatever it is I'm reading…" Remembering the weight of situation had Buffy in a bad mood once again.

"Well, as thoroughly fascinated with your life as you seem to think I am, I need my undead beauty sleep, so be a doll and get out of my goddamn bedroom. That is unless you'd like to join me" Spike raised an eyebrow and traced his canines with his tongue.

As she slammed the door closed in an angry retreat, Spike was satisfied to smell her arousal for a split second before he was once again alone in darkness.

* * *

"Giles, have you any luck on researching a condition that could suddenly make me a brain-wavey-reader? Or maybe make you all have really loud brain activity?"

The sound of shuffling papers was muffled through Buffy's cell phone as Giles took a moment to respond. "We haven't found any concrete possibilities yet, but it may be a mutated poison, or perhaps a curse cast on you. I can assure you we are all doing our best to get you back to normal."

"Thanks Watcher of mine, I'm just not sure what my next step is. I don't know if it is everyone that I can read, or just people in Sunnydale... I don't think I'm strong enough to test any hypothesizes out, listening for only a few minutes of you all nearly sent me off the deep end."

"But Buffy, where will you stay? The only places in Sunnydale without any people are…" Giles was cut off, but Buffy had a bad feeling she knew what he was going to say.

Looking around from her standing position in front of Spike's crypt, she knew the only type of place she could stay until her problem was solved: a cemetery.

* * *

Buffy had been coming up with ways to approach the idea with Spike all afternoon. Grabbing a few supplies from home, Buffy had been sitting on the same couch she had crashed the night before with an overnight bag sitting at her feet. She was so engrossed with her inner dialogues that when Spike woke up and snuck up behind her she shrieked in surprise and nearly staked him.

Laughing and full of adrenaline from his near-stake encounter, Spike looked at Buffy's wary and nervous face and asked, "Slayer that was not your most intimidating of battle cries. Care to explain why you are back on my couch? With…. A bag?"

"Umm, you know that I have been dealing with a slight case of the brain mix-ups, and they only happen when I am around people, and the farther from people the quieter they get, and I happened to notice that it doesn't affect me when I am around vamps, so, umm, naturally I came to the conclusion that I needed to _temporarily _bunk where there aren't people. For example… a graveyard."

Spike began sputtering on the blood in a mug he had grabbed for breakfast, and looked gob smacked as he cut to the chase, "Slayer, are you asking to move in with me?"

* * *

"So again, please explain to me how in all of the bloody cemeteries in all of bloody Sunnydale, you decided it would be best to be room mates with your mortal enemy?"

"Don't get full of yourself, Billy Idol. I'm not asking you to do this because I want to. It just makes sense given our unique situation."

"And what is that situation, pet?"

"Well, you physically can't hurt me or attack me when I'm sleeping or anything, and I won't stake you when you aren't hurting anyone. See? It makes perfect sense. I already have a bag ready, I can pay you for rent or whatever, and since we both know the arrangement, we don't have to pretend to be civil to each other!"

Spike opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, unable to form a coherent sentence.

_How the buggering fuck am I supposed to live with the girl I love, who hates me nonetheless, when our longest conversations were promises of each other's death?_

"I'll just stay on the couch until this little curse or spell or whatever is sorted out, a few days max. And do you have any blankets that don't smell like corpse?"

* * *

When Giles announced Buffy's temporary living situation to the Scoobies during a research session at the Magic Box, everyone was predictably shocked.

"Please tell me this is a joke. Buff can't be camping out with the dead thing that has been obsessively stalking her forever," Xander asked Giles pleadingly.

"I'm sure she'll be okay. Spike has his chip. I just feel terrible that she has to be so isolated while we figure out what's causing Buffy's brain to pick up on the activity of our prefrontal cortexes and amygdales." Willow felt awful for her best friend, and felt weirdly responsible for whatever was happening to Buffy.

_I'm the one who is always messing around with magic. I bet this is some kind of price for me being a doofus. I should have just left the spells and chants up to the real witches._

Everyone looked shocked, and in Xander's case disgusted when Anya said, "Well, I for one am excited to see how this works out. The sexual tension has been killing me for months. Maybe if they both reach orgasm they will be more relaxed."

* * *

"I swear to God, if you don't get your clunky, boot covered feet off of my lap in three seconds, you will lose them."

"My home, my rules, pet. I want to watch the telly layin' down, I will. You're taking up the cushion where my feet usually stay, so deal."

Buffy shoved the Doc Martens from her lap and stood, stretching out her limbs. She had been cooped up inside nearly all day, watching the soap opera channel Spike liked to keep on, as well as looking through the books Spike left laying on the floor.

Slipping on a jacket and arming herself with a crossbow and two stakes, Buffy strode out of the crypt and began to check on the recent burials in the graveyard. She imagined a certain bleached, aggravating head on each of the newly risen fledglings she turned to dust, and continued on to the next cemetery feeling decidedly more relaxed than she had been when she set off for the night.

When she reached the Jameson Cemetery, Buffy noted eight plots of dirt that appeared to have been disturbed in the last two days or so. Perching on the new gravestone, she waited for any vamps that were due that night to rise.

Buffy felt herself begin to nod off, and used her trick of reciting poetry to keep from falling asleep. She had read one of Spike's books earlier that day, a collection of poems by Robert Frost.

"Some say the world will end in fire,

others say in ice,

from what I've tasted of –"

Buffy was suddenly cut off from her struggling to remember to poem she had read that morning when two hands shot up from the soil and a vampire hoisted herself up onto the grass.

Lifting her stake for her usual quick kill, Buffy froze when the vampire turned to face her. The woman, even in game face, was recognizable as a middle aged woman, with a hairstyle just like Buffy remembered her mom having worn months before her death.

The demon, seeing a slip in the Slayer's defenses, lunged at her. Buffy gathered her wits just in time to grab the rushing vampire's arm and flip her onto her back, then straddled the demon's chest, pinning her arms to her sides.

_I am sitting on my mom's chest her eyes are flashing yellow oh my god how did this happen, I'll try talking her through this she'll be okay my mommy will be okay. She's falling forward I have to catch her. Pain. My arm is on fire._

Buffy was frozen on the fledgling's chest, stuck reliving the night that she staked her mother. The vampire threw her off, and Buffy's head struck a grave marker. Slumping against the cold stone, she looked up at the vampire that seemed to be leaping at her in slow motion. Suddenly, a stake appeared in the vamp's chest from behind and her ashes fell to the ground. Standing in her place was Spike.

* * *

Spike had noticed Buffy was gone longer than usual. As a precaution, he decided to follow her scent. If she was fine, he would get to see her brassed off. If she wasn't okay… well, she was probably fine.

Spike was able to track her through his cemetery, and over towards Jameson. As he was about to turn back and head to the butcher for some blood, he heard it. The most haunting voice carried on the wind. Buffy's voice, quietly turning Frost's work into a bloody revelation. Like a man called to the siren song, Spike followed the voice, and tried to catch Buffy's scent when her recital suddenly cut off. Circling a few new plots with nothing but the truly dead, Spike looked up and caught sight of a scene across the cemetery that would have made his heart stop if it had still been beating.

_Oh god. Get UP Buffy. You have a goddamn thick skull, it can take a little bumpin'._

Spike ran faster than had ever remembered sprinting. With a quick thrust of a stake into the fledge's back, he was momentarily happy that the danger had been avoided. When he met the eyes of Buffy, he knew her inner battle was much more brutal than the physical skirmish that had just transpired.

"Didn't mean to I had to so sorry hurt so bad should have pushed her away could have done it all different could have been different," Buffy murmured under her breath, just loud enough for Spike to pick up on.

In that exact moment, he wasn't sure if it was the relief of seeing her alive, his desire to make her stop muttering harsh words to herself, or the comfort that another person was there for her that he wanted to express, but something overcame him, and running his hands gently through her hair, he pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

**Don't think for one second that from now on their relationship will be hearts and chocolate ;)**

**Feel free to review, let me know what you think  
**


	8. Chapter 8: Kiss with a Fist

This story takes place in season five, but the Glory storyline does not take place, therefore Dawn does not exist.

* * *

The moment Spike's lips touched hers, Buffy stopped thinking about all she could have done differently on the night her mother rose as a vampire. All coherent thought disappeared, and all she could process was how incredibly soft Spike's lips were against her own.

Buffy pushed herself off from her previously seated position and pressed herself against Spike, never severing their connection.

Spike didn't know what reaction he had been expecting, but it certainly was not the one Buffy had given him.

_She is so warm, God, she's gonna make me burst into flames. Those lips…_

Buffy heard a deep, rumbling groan reverberate through Spike's throat and she felt her entire body tremble. She carefully traced his lips with her tongue, and when she felt his mouth open slightly, she took the opportunity to slowly trail her tongue against his.

_He wants me. He knows what I am, what I've done. He may have gotten over that freaky rebound-crush but God, I can _feel _how much he wants me…_

Spike could barely hold back from slamming the bird onto the ground and taking her right then, but something about the way she was so sweet, so careful, even as she kissed her enemy made him restrain himself, letting her set her own pace.

Pulling back to catch her breath, Buffy closed her eyes and gasped against Spike's shoulder, the reality of what she had just done setting in. She had kissed Spike. She had kissed a man she hated. Damnit, she had practically thrown herself at the first body she could see.

Spike felt the Slayer's spine stiffen against his hands, and pulled his head back to look at her face.

"Buffy…"

Hearing her name brought Buffy back to her senses and she opened her eyes to look into Spike's face.

_There is something in his expression, something more than a physical need… crap, what did I do? I can't just complicate everything all the damn time. He is a room mate. A dead, evil, murderous, room mate who happens to respond to girls throwing themselves at him. He must think I am so desperate._

Buffy wrenched herself from Spike's grip and looked down at his face for a moment before averting her eyes.

"I have to go, umm… I have to go. Fight evil. And other Slayer things. So… I'll be in the crypt later. Thanks for the help. Uhh… bye."

Barely a moment after finishing her awkward goodbye, blushing like a preteen, Buffy turned and sprinted away as fast as she could. She couldn't be near Spike. She couldn't dwell on what she just did.

* * *

Spike watched her leave, and threw his fist at the ground, creating a sizable crater.

"Stupid sodding son of a bitch, you had to just let that go on and scare the chit right after she almost kicks it. Wouldn't be surprised if she's all moved out by tomorrow. Thought I'd hang around with her for a mo', let her see I'm not some prissy piece of scum. Nice going, Spike, what a great show _William, _ya ponce."

He picked himself up from the soil and turned on the heel of his boots, headed to the deli. He needed some Jim Bean and Marlboros . If he was gonna wake up with a stake in the chest, might as well get smashed the night before.

* * *

Buffy was back in full Slayer-mode. She couldn't deal with confusing sort-of-evil vampires tonight, instead she wanted to blow off some steam killing regular demons.

"And who does he think he is, kissing me like that? We hate each other. Most of the time. Every once in a while it feels kind of fun, arguing and joking around…"

"Uhh, lady, killing you won't be as fun if you don't shut up soon."

A second later the vampire fell to the ground, dusting as his body hit the grass. The second vamp lunged at Buffy, a move she sidestepped easily.

"…but kissing him is bad. Very, very bad. We already have this unspoken frenemies deal. It's uncomplicated. I already have enough garbage in my life to deal with. Can't handle some freakshow relationship with a psychotic bleached-out dead guy."

The vampire attacking Buffy straightened from his crouch, with a confused look on his face. The blonde vamp ran a hand through his hair and said, "Lady, you're not talking about me, right? You seem nice and all, but I'm not into blood sacks with a knack for giving my friends splinters."

"Get over yourself, much? Doesn't anyone know what the Slayer is anymore?"

"What's a Sla-" his question was cut off as Buffy exasperatedly kicked him in the gut, sending him flying into a tree, whose branch stabbed the demon through the chest.

"Vamps. Ugh. Can't let me get a single word in."

* * *

Buffy dragged herself back to Spike's crypt later in the night, and was glad to find it empty. Throwing herself onto the couch she now thought of as home, she laid back and prepared for a quick nap before setting back out for a last round of patrolling, just before dawn. If she timed it just right she might avoid an awkward encounter with Spike.

Shuddering at the thought of the uncomfortable conversations sure to come, Buffy drifted off the sleep.

* * *

Spike was drunk. _Really _drunk. He could barely feel his fingers and whistled as he ambled back to his home.

"OOOOH, God save the queen,

She ain't no human being,

There is no future,

In England's dreaming."

Spike kicked down the door and laughed at the memories the Sex Pistols brought back. He didn't notice Buffy snoring facedown on the couch until he leapt backwards, intending to land on the center cushion and catch some _Passions._ Instead he found himself dumped on the hard floor by a sleep-deprived, royally brassed-off Slayer.

"Sorry love, didn't see ya there, takin' a little snooze on the job."

"Spike, just shut up. I have a stake with your name on it, and I am itching to use it right about now," Buffy rubbed at her ribs, sure there would be an ugly bruise the next day.

"Pet, I'm drunk, and you are bloody confusing. Snogging me one second, seeming on the way to a shag, and then promising to serve me up dusty the next. Is it your crazy human hormones working ya up?"

With a screech Buffy launched herself on the intoxicated vamp, intending to find out if a vamp could be pummeled into ashes. After punching him repeatedly in the stomach, she stopped to lean forward, and hissed only inches from his face, "I confuse you, because we are nothing alike. Hear that? _Nothing._ Living together was never going to work. We're too different." For a moment, Buffy looked almost disappointed, and she backed away from the ruffed up vamp.

As she turned to collect her things, already brainstorming other cemeteries she could possible set up camp in, Spike gripped her elbow hard and turned her around before pressing her against the unyielding wall.

"We are more alike than you know, pet. Ever wonder what happened _after _I became a vampire? Before Dru and I set off to make Eurasia our bleeding throne? Try to keep your pint-sized yap shut for a mo', 'cause you're about to hear a little history lesson on William the Bloody."

**Get ready for Spike reliving some fledgling memories seen in Lies My Parents Told Me.**


	9. Chapter 9: Animals

This story takes place in season five, however the Glory storyline does not take place and therefore Dawn does not exist.

**THIS IS RATED MATURE.**

* * *

"The year was eighteen eighty, pet, and I was a bloody poofter. After Dru turned me, the world was new. Everything was glowing. People smelled absolutely mouthwatering. I was free. No rules to follow. I could shove it to all those society nimrods who'd been arses to me all my life."

Buffy was nervous of being around Spike when he was drunk and reminiscing, but she couldn't help but snort and sarcastically say, "Oh, sure. Those people you killed must have deserved it, you weren't just being evil."

She could have sworn she saw a look of hurt in Spike's eyes, but it was replaced by anger as he snarled and snapped his fangs only centimeters from her neck. Leaning in close to her ear he whispered in a deadly tone, "Interrupt again, and I swear to God I will ignore this fucking chip."

"You see, luv, I'm not quite like other vamps. Sure I can get with the biting and fighting and I love me some violence, but I carried over a bit more of myself than usual when I was brought to the immortal side. Could still remember my parents."

Buffy's eyes widened in horror, as she remembered hearing that vampires slaughtered those familiar to them immediately after turning.

He saw her terrified look and began the next part of his horrid story with caution, "What would you have done to save your mother?"

"Anything," Buffy quickly answered, as her expression turned questioning.

"Well, that is exactly what I did. My mum was dying, you see. Consumption. She had raised me by herself, done everything for me, so when I was given the gift of immortality… I had to do it. I had to save her."

_He can't mean… oh my god. He turned her. He thought he was saving her. But if he turned her where is she now, how couldn't I have run into her yet?_

"I held her when she died, and was eager to see how pleased she would be with her reawakening." Spike's voice became dangerously low and bitter, and he tightened his grip on Buffy as he came to the closing of his tale. "She came back wrong. Or right. You see, everyone holds onto a little bit of themselves. I was still William, just an amped up version of my old pillock self. I thought she would be Anne."

Buffy could hear a quiet, choking noise, and held back her reaction of disgust.

_Got to finish, she has to know there is someone else here for her besides her mates._

"She was a monster. Started sayin' all this nasty rubbish. I couldn't bear to see her like that. I asked you already what you would do to save your mum. I couldn't let this demon keep her face."

Buffy let out a small whimper as she could now guess how Spike's horrible history lesson ended – exactly like her own.

"I staked my mom. Had to watch her turn to ash in my arms." Spike snarled an inch from Buffy's face as he angrily continued, "So when I say that I know what you've been through Slayer, shut off your fucking high-and-mighty mouth and _listen._"

Stepping back suddenly from the stone wall of his crypt, Spike let Buffy drop to the floor in a heap of extraordinarily confused Slayer.

* * *

_He knows. I'm not the only one…. I'm not the only one._

Buffy was silent as she began to understand the full impact of Spike's words. She wasn't the only person to have to kill their own mother, in fact, another person in town had done it and lived a hundred more years.

Buffy stood and followed Spike to the fridge as he reached for some blood to heat up. Who the hell did he think he was? Confide in her and then just storm off before she could respond in any way?

"Listen, Spike, I'm sorry. It has been a really shitty couple of weeks and I've been kind of selfish. Can I still stay here?"

Spike was so startled by an apology form the Slayer he could have sworn his heart had started beating again.

_The bint has got her friends' voices in her head and she is worried about not thinkin' of others? She is a bloody paradox. And now she wants to stay here even after knowing what I did to my mum?_

Clearing his throat, he quietly began, "Slayer, you can stay as long as you want to, don't think anyone else is eager to be around here," trying to lighten the mood the conversation had gone in he added, "besides, having a beating heart 'round here is addin' a nice plasmic scent to the air."

She tried to suppress the laugh bubbling in her chest, an admittance that she was starting to appreciate his sense of humor. Which she SO totally wasn't. She lifted her arm to give him a mocking shove in the chest, but met his eyes when he caught her hand and met her eyes.

_She knows me. She knows all of me._

_He knows what I've done. He doesn't judge me like everyone else._

Buffy looked at his eyes. Blue and so full of _something. _His look was more primal than Angel's, and stronger than Riley's had ever couldn't dwell on it tonight; it would ruin what she was about to do.

Not looking away, Buffy traced her fingers over Spike's chest and finally wrapped her fingers lightly around each other at the base of his neck. She stepped an inch closer to his solid form and craned her neck so her lips were only inches from his.

"Buffy, I-"

"Shhh, not right now, Spike. Don't complicate this. I'm in pain and so are you. Please make it better."

Spike desperately wanted Buffy to know that he loved her. She wasn't some twisted fixation he had gotten over, but the pleading, desperate look in the girl's eyes was clear. She couldn't handle emotion right now. She was confused and needed something physical and uncomplicated. When she whispered the word "please" all of Spike's resolve melted and he pressed his lips to hers with a groan of need.

Buffy eagerly responded to his passion and raked her fingers through his tousled curls, lightly nipping his lower lip.

Hearing her light sigh into his mouth, Spike felt himself harden and allowed his tongue to explore her mouth, massaging her own and battling for dominance.

Not about to let Spike believe her was in charge of whatever it was they were doing together, Buffy broke away, gasping, and shoved Spike onto the floor. She quickly straddled him and resumed their frenzied kissing, and could feel his bulge through their jeans.

"Not here. Downstairs. Bed." Spike was able to choke out as he felt Buffy nipping at his neck. The moment she licked his own mark left from when he was turned, his hips bucked and a growl vibrated from deep within his chest.

_Mmmmm need this now now now._

Buffy wasn't able to form coherent thoughts when the seam from her jeans rubbed against the ache building between her thighs. Jumping off of a protesting vampire, she practically dove through the opening leading to Spike's bedroom.

Following right after her, Spike nearly slid into game face from the incredible sight of Buffy headed towards his own sheets.

The moment she turned around to beckon him over, she was able to make out the blur of Spike traveling at his top speed before his full cold lips pressed tightly against hers once again and they were both lain on the satin bedspread. She hadn't realized how overheated and frenzied her body felt until it was soothed by his chilled touch.

Both knew that their tryst was not going to be loving or careful; they both needed a distraction from their pain, and were able to find it in each other's presence.

_She is leaving trails of fire everywhere she touches. She is scorching me and I wouldn't change anythin' for the world._

Her nimble fingers, ones he was so used to seeing in battle, were equally ferocious as they tore his shirt off over his head in the split second that she drew her lips away from his. She reached for her own shirt, but his fingers caught hers. With a speed much too slow for her liking, Spike began to peel the tank top from her skin, finally tearing it off immediately after he released her breasts.

Usually self conscious, knowing she didn't have the largest chest, Buffy couldn't find it in her to be reserved in any way and instead let go of her insecurities.

The entire world had gone mad, that was the only explanation Spike could conjure for the fact that he was seeing the Slayer's breasts before him. He was reverent as he cupped her pale mounds, running his thumbs over each nipple.

She caught his smirk as he heard the squeak she let out when her nipples hardened to his touch. Unwilling to be the only one unable to control themselves, she reached down to his belt buckle without warning and kicked off his jeans, followed by her own pair.

_Just a few scraps of fabric. It's SPIKE for god sake, am I sure about this?_

When his fingers lightly trailed her center over her lace underwear all doubts about sleeping with Spike immediately vanished. He felt right with her body, now that they were touching it was as if something had been missing before, she just hadn't realized it.

They reached simultaneously for each others briefs, and for the first time took things slowly, took off the last things separating them; what seemed like the life preserver in case either of them wanted to stop.

Buffy did not want to be loving or slow – the only slow and loving sex she had usually ended with someone leaving her or turning evil. Well, no risk in the whole evil-turning department.

Buffy tried to bite down her giggle and Spike immediately smirked, "What pet, see something you like?"

Her eyes following the trail his fingers made soon focused on the area between his legs. _Oh my god, how is he bigger than Riley? He's six inches shorter!_

Spike was thoroughly enjoying the shocked and awed expression on the slayer's face, but wanted to get his own eyeful of the slayer's naughty bits.

"C'mon love, I showed you mine…"

Buffy, not wanting him to think of her as weak or shy – after all he soooo wasn't the one in charge here – slowly spread her thighs to reveal her aching quim

Spike eyed her peach hungrily, but the moment he locked eyes with Buffy he tried again to explain his love for her, not wanting to cheapen this moment.

"Buffy I –"

"No, Spike. No feelings no anger or explanation, just easing some pain we share."

Spike was balancing on his elbows, propping himself between Buffy's legs, and as he positioned himself only centimeters from her entrance, he repeated for what seemed like the twentieth time, "Are you sure?"

Instead of answering his repetitive question out loud, Buffy gripped her fingers tightly in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers and pressed her lips against his, more gently than anything they had done so far tonight.

Without another moment's hesitation, he entered her in one hard thrust all the way to the hilt.

Buffy was not used to being filled so fully and let out a surprised gasp of pleasure and pain. "Oh God".

"Don't worry love, you can call me Spike."

With a brief annoyed look, Buffy soon ending their chatter when she grinded against him with so much power he was propelled to a sitting position, the slayer in his lap.

She closed her eyes and coiled her legs around his torso as she practically vibrated with the sensation of being filled by Spike.

Spike had wanted to take it slow, and show his love and care for her through gentle and sweet sex, but as soon as she began riding him he knew he could not show any control. She didn't want any feelings or emotion, that much was clear, hell, if she was going to be purely physical, so was he.

Buffy sensed a change in Spike's mind when he began meeting her thrusts at an inhuman speed and she nearly choked with pleasure at the feeling. They battled with their bodies and continued to move in a primal way, no words spoken, only groaning and shouts of ecstasy.

He came into her, and being utterly spent, simply shoved off of her and nearly immediately fell asleep face down on his bed.

Buffy felt like every bone in her body had turned to jelly, so she shut off the thoughts off panic and regret already forming in her mind and simply drifted to sleep where she lay.


End file.
